


Kent Parson is Not Getting Any Pie

by AbcdeAbcde



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Accidental Coming Out, Coming Out, Getting Together, Kent Parson would definitely get caught having public sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 13:07:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5091887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbcdeAbcde/pseuds/AbcdeAbcde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The headline is there as soon as Eric turns on his computer in the morning</p><p>“Kent Parson Gay”</p><p>Eric puts down his coffee and opens the article, wide-eyed and breathing hard.</p><p>“Las Vegas Aces’ star and Art Ross winner, Kent Parson, was caught performing a sex act with an unidentified male at a New York bar last night. When asked for a comment, Parson’s publicist, Jose Flores, said the star wished to apologise to his team for the scandal and would make a statement later today at a press conference.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kent Parson is Not Getting Any Pie

The headline is there as soon as Eric turns on his computer in the morning

“Kent Parson Gay”

 Eric puts down his coffee and opens the article, wide-eyed and breathing hard.

 

"Las Vegas Aces’ star and Art Ross winner, Kent Parson, was caught performing a sex act with an unidentified male at a New York bar last night. When asked for a comment, Parson’s publicist, Jose Flores, said the star wished to apologise to his team for the scandal and would make a statement later today at a press conference.”

 

Eric stares at the short story for a long time, gradually becoming aware of movement around him in the kitchen.

 “You okay, Bitty?” Shitty asks, laying a hand on Eric’s shoulder. Shitty always is handsy.

 Eric turns the computer towards Shitty mutely.

 "Oh, wow,” Shitty screws up his face. “That is some fucked up shit, there, bro. Fucking Kent Parson!”

 “What about Kent Parson?” Ransom asks. Shitty shows him and Holster the article.

 “Bro!” Ransom’s eyes go wide. “Does this mean –? I mean, there were always rumours about Jack and Parse back in the day.”

 “Is Jack gay?” Holster asks.

 Eric makes a strangled sound. It’s not like he hadn’t considered it when he overheard Jack and Kent at Epikegster. It was certainly one interpretation of what Kent had said (and done – wait, were they kissing?). It was just that it had seemed so _unlikely_. After all, this was Jack Zimmermann they were talking about. _Jack Zimmermann_. Eric makes himself calm down. Even if Jack is gay (which - surely not), it doesn’t change the fact that he is way out of Eric’s league. He probably thinks of Eric as the little brother he never had. Eric feels sick.

 “Jack!” Shitty calls out as Jack gets back from his run.

 “Morning,” Jack wanders in and pulls some Gatorade out of the fridge. “What, no pancakes this morning, Bitty?”

 “Oh,” Bitty stands up. “Oh. I got … distracted, but the batter’s all done if you can wait a few minutes.”

 “Are you okay?” Jack frowns.

 “You need to see this, bro,” Shitty turns Eric’s computer towards Jack.

 Jack’s face falls as he reads. His expression turns stony. Eric realises he hasn’t seen that look on Jack’s face for a long time.

 “ _Tabernac_ ,” Jack mutters and stands up, pulling out his phone. They hear his voice disappearing up the stairs. “Kenny – it’s me. Call me when you get the message.”

 Eric is left staring at his pan.

 “Umm, Bitty?” Ransom calls out. “Is that meant to be smoking?”

 “Goodness me!” Bitty pulls the pan off the heat. For some reason he feels tears prickling at the back of his eyes. “I don’t know what’s come over me.”

 Holster takes the pan from him and pushes him down into a seat at the kitchen table.

 “You sit down and take some deep breaths. I’m in charge of pancakes,” Holster says. Eric gives him a grateful, if tremulous, smile. “Maple?” Holster adds. Eric frowns at him.

 “Well, if you’re going to be dating a Canadian …”

 Eric’s frown gives way to horror. “I don’t know what you mean,” he stutters.

 “Holts,” Shitty says warningly. Holster shuts his mouth.

 Oh, God. Of course they must all know about Eric’s pathetic little crush. He can feel the hearts in his own eyes every time he looks at Jack. It’s hardly a surprise that the others see it too. Eric covers his face.

 “Bro, you do not want to look at the comments on this one,” Shitty slams the computer shut with a look of disgust. “People are such dicks.”

 Eric sighs and eats his slightly singed pancakes. He pours artificial maple syrup over them and stares defiantly at Holster.

 “Bitty, there’s no need to take it out on your poor, innocent, pancakes,” Ransom looks on in horror.

 

 

 Jack is on the phone all day. Eric tries to stay away from social media, but finds it is asking too much of himself. Thankfully, most of the comments are supportive of Kent’s sexuality, if mocking of the way he outed himself. Eric scans every comment anxiously, but finds no mention of Jack Zimmermann.

 At 3pm, Shitty calls Eric down to the lounge to watch the press conference. Rans and Holster squeeze in beside him and the frogs have all turned up to perch on the armrests. Jack is nowhere to be seen.

 Kent files in with his publicist, the Aces’ team manager, their coach and some other people Eric can’t identify. There is some shuffling as everyone gets organised, and then Kent is reading his statement, eyes on the paper in front of him.

 “I want to begin by apologising for the embarrassment I have caused my team and my family. As a public figure and potential role model to young hockey fans, I understand that the public nature of the act was inappropriate and I promise that it will never happen again.”

 There is some throat clearing. Eric had thought that Kent looked chastened and smaller than usual, but at this point he glances up at the camera with a smirk.

 “Having said that, I am not ashamed to admit that yes, I am gay.”

 The crowd noise swells and some of the reporters call out Kent’s name.

 “My sexuality is a private matter, that has no impact on the way I play the game and I ask the public to respect that.”

 Kent puts down the paper and lifts his chin defiantly in the direction of the camera. The questions begin immediately.

 “Why haven’t you come out before?”

 “Kent – are your teammates aware of your sexual orientation?”

 “How does your team feel about the impact this will have on sponsorship?”

 “Are you going to step down from your role as mentor to the Peewee league?”

 Kent answers everything smoothly. Yes, his team know he’s gay. He has the full support of the Aces and their sponsors. Eric realises his knuckles are white where he is gripping the fabric of his trousers. He glances over and sees Jack leaning against the doorway, watching the interview.

 “Jack – “ Shitty begins, but Jack’s phone rings again.

 “Hey, Kenny. Yeah, I’m watching it now …” Jack walks away. Eric turns back to the TV and realises that Kent has left the interview and must have called Jack straight away.

 “You okay, Bits?” Shitty asks. Lardo wanders in and puts her arms straight around Bitty’s shoulders.

 “I’m okay,” Bitty blinks back tears again. He’s not sure why he’s crying. It’s not him being outed, and overall people have been supportive of Kent. It’s just a lot to take in, he thinks. And … it’s so unfair on Jack. The news about him signing with Providence has only just broken. It would be such a pity if – if he is gay – this overshadowed it.

 “I’ll say this for Parson,” Holster says. “The dudes got balls, riding it out like that.”

 “It’s shitty that it happened this way for him, but it’s got to be a good thing for the sport,” Shitty says. “For all pro sports. I mean, Parson isn’t just a hockey player – he’s the best.”

 “Bro,” Ransom says disapprovingly. “Jack’s the best.”

 “Well Jack’s…” Shitty trails off, biting back whatever he was going to say.

 “Is Jack going to come out, too?” Holster asks, swigging his beer.

 Lardo hugs Bitty tighter.

 “I don’t know anything,” Shitty says loyally, but Eric’s not fooled. He doesn’t think Shitty is surprised. It makes sense that Shitty would know if Jack were gay. Shitty’s an easy guy to talk to. Eric remembers him saying that five people came out to him in sophomore year; maybe his best friend was one of them. Eric has no right to feel betrayed. It wasn’t Shitty’s secret to share, and Jack has a perfect right to protect himself. But it means something if Jack is gay and didn’t tell Eric. Eric thought they had become close – almost as close as Jack and Shitty – but Jack still didn’t trust him with this.

 Eric takes a deep breath and jumps off the couch. “I’m going to bake a pie,” he says firmly.

 “That’s the spirit, Bitty,” Ransom says approvingly. “What kind of pie do you bake for someone when their possible ex-boyfriend has possibly, by association, outed them, thus possibly ruining their hockey career just when it seemed, possibly, to finally be back on track?”

 Eric stares at Ransom hopelessly.

 “Yeah, it’s gonna take a lot of pie,” Holster nods. “You better get baking, Bitty.”

 

 

Eric does bake. He steers away from the maple syrup and bakes his own favourites – his Moo Maw’s secret apple pie recipe and the chocolate chiffon that he knows Jack would never touch (“There’s no place for chocolate chiffon on my diet plan, Bittle”). The rest of the team avoid the kitchen after Eric glares at them one too many times.

 “We’re going to eat at the dining hall,” Shitty calls to him from a safe distance. Eric glares at him, anyway.

 Eric cleans the kitchen even more meticulously than usual. Twice. But eventually there is nothing more to be done, and he heads up stairs. He pauses outside Jack’s room – planning to knock and say … what? He doesn’t know, but he’s sure a friend would say something. His hand is raised, but he hears Jack talking in French to someone – probably his parents. Despite a semester of French, the only word Eric can pick out is Kent’s name. Eric’s hand falls to his side and he turns away.

 He agonises for a long time over what to say on Twitter. Eventually he settles for:

 “You can play @kentparson”

 Parson favourites his tweet within five minutes, and starts following Eric’s twitter as well.

 

 

The next morning, Eric opens the Haus door to find Bad Bob and Alicia Zimmermann on the doorstep.

 “Oh,” he says eloquently. His mind is suddenly blank.

 “It’s Eric, isn’t it?” Mrs Zimmermann says with a smile. Her accent is a little more pronounced than Bob or Jack’s. It’s very charming, and she’s a beautiful woman. Eric feels more than awkward.

 “I guess you picked that from my size,” he laughs eventually. “Please come in. I’ll let Jack know you’re here.”

 Jack comes down the stairs as Bob is shaking Eric’s hand. Eric sees the anxious way the Zimmermann’s look at Jack. After a moment, they both relax, seemingly reassured by Jack’s demeanour, even though Eric can’t read him at all. Alicia folds her son in a hug. She barely has to reach up at all, and Eric realises that she must be at least three inches taller than he is.

 “Cheri,” Alicia mutters. Jack hugs his mother back, unashamedly.

 “It’s okay, Mum. I’m okay.”

 Bob hugs Jack briefly. Eric leaves them to it, but hears them asking if Jack has spoken to Kent as he walks out.

 “He’s doing fine,” Jack says. “He says it was a good time for him.”

 Alicia says something in French that sounds like it expresses Eric’s feelings on the matter quite succinctly. Jack glances up at Eric, who makes a show of shutting the kitchen door.

 “Well, it doesn’t have to have an impact on me,” Jack says before the door is closed and Eric can avoid listening in.

 Eric stares around the kitchen. He gets his apple pie out of the fridge, in case the Zimmermann’s want something to eat. The chocolate chiffon has mysteriously disappeared. Well, it’s not that mysterious in this house. He pours himself a coffee and refills the pot, then sits at the table with his phone to catch up on what the media are saying today.

 Jack pokes his head in a little later. Eric looks up and realises an hour has gone by and his coffee is cold. Overall, he feels heartened by the public’s response. He can’t help wondering if it would be a good time to come out to his own family. It’s food for thought, at least.

 “Can I come in?” Jack asks.

 “Of course, Jack,” Eric puts on a smile. “Can I get you some pie?”

 “Apple?” Jack looks at Eric’s untouched slice and nods. “Sure. I never can say no to your apple pie. The Falconers dietician will be happy I’m not taking you to Providence with me.”

 Eric turns away from him as he cuts a slice. He’s been trying not to think about next month, when this will all be over. Despite the doubts of the last couple of days, he knows Jack and he are friends. But that will inevitably change when they’re not living together. Eric hopes they will keep in touch, but he can predict how it will go. They’ll Skype and group chat to start with, but Jack will get busy, and the messages will be fewer and further between, and one day this beautiful man, whom Eric loves absolutely, will be an acquaintance. A Facebook friend, if Eric can ever get Jack to use Facebook.

 Eric makes extra time to compose himself by pouring Jack a cup of coffee.

 “Well, now, I reckon I could box some pie up and ship it down for post-game celebrations,” he manages to smile as he puts the pie and coffee in front of Jack.

 “I hope you’ll bring it in person,” Jack says seriously. Eric feels the familiar swoop in his stomach. He reminds himself that Jack cares about all of his Samwell friends like that.

 “Are your parents gone?”

 “They’re checking into their hotel,” Jack says. “They’re coming down to Providence with me to meet with the PR team tomorrow.”

 Eric takes a deep breath. It’s true, then, but he still needs to hear it from Jack.

 “Is this about Kent? Are you going to make a statement of support?”

 “It’s about me,” Jack says, waiting until Eric makes eye contact. “I’m going to come out.”

 Eric hears a rushing noise. He puts his hands over his face. For a moment, he doesn’t think he will be able to hold it together, but he catches Jack’s look of anxiety and reminds himself that this is about Jack. This is Jack’s moment and he needs Eric’s support.

 “I wanted to tell you first,” Jack says.

 “Thank you for trusting me,” Eric says, strangled. Jack looks puzzled.

 “Bittle?”

 Eric licks his lips. “Thank you for telling me first, before you made a statement to the press.”

 Jack frowns. “For telling you what?”

 “That you are … not straight.”

 “I’m gay,” Jack continues to frown. “You know this.”

 Eric slumps on to the table. “No, Jack,” he says faintly. “No. I didn’t know that. I thought you were straight.”

 “But you heard Kent – “

 “I didn’t know,” Eric repeats. “I was so sure you were straight that I didn’t … I assumed there was something else going on.”

 Eric hurts. Jack is 25. He knew, logically, that Jack must have had relationships, but this is different. Jack was in love with Kent Parson. Kent must have been Jack’s first love. Eric wonders what Jack was like at 17 – before the overdose. The anxiety would have been there of course, but there must have been a time when Jack’s whole life was ahead of him and he was happy. And Kent got that. Whatever happened later, no one else could ever have that part of Jack. That part belongs to Kent, who abandoned Jack, who said such awful things to him. He knows it’s not fair, but for a moment, Eric lets himself hate Kent Parson.

 “Are you and Kent …” Eric trails off. His throat is constricted. He doesn’t think he can get the words out, but he tries again. “Are you with Kent now?”

 “What?” Jack looks puzzled. “No. Of course not. In fact, I think he’s been with the guy he got caught with for a while. He won’t admit it yet, but that’s just Parse.”

 Eric could not care less about Kent Parson's love life as long as it doesn’t involve Jack Zimmermann. Jack deserves _more_.

 “Kent wouldn’t out you, would he?”

 “No,” Jack shrugs. “But everyone knows we were close. It won’t take long for the media to put two and two together. It’s not the time I would have chosen –“

 “It’s all very well for Kent,” Eric says fiercely. “It doesn’t seem fair that this has happened before you’ve even played a game.”

 “It’s a relief,” Jack said. “In a day or two it will be out there, and I’ll never have to worry about hiding it again.”

 “Was that part of the anxiety –“ Eric cuts himself off. That part of Jack’s past is none of his business. 

 "A bit, perhaps,” Jack doesn’t seem uncomfortable. “There was so much pressure, everywhere, in every part of my life. For a while Kenny was an escape, but eventually he was part of the problem.”

 Eric thinks dark thoughts about Kent. He promises himself Kent will never taste a bite of his pies.

 “I’m hoping it doesn’t have to be a source of anxiety for me anymore,” Jack says. He laughs a little. “You know what my Dad said to me when I came to college?” Eric shakes his head. “I was so worried how he would respond when I came out to him, but he was nothing but supportive. I told him I wasn’t going to come out publically before I played professionally, and he agreed, although he said he would fight for me if I wanted to tell the world.”

 Eric loves Bad Bob.

 “When I came to college, Dad was really worried. He said, “Jack, son, there’s one thing I don’t understand – if you’re in the closet, how are you going to get laid?”” Jack laughs a little again. Eric manages a faint smile. “And my mother worried about me not being able to be in a relationship because she wanted me to have someone who would support me.”

 “Well, you’ll be able to do that now, right?” Eric forces himself to say brightly. “You’ll be beating all the good-looking young men off with a stick when they find out.”

 Jack frowns slightly. “I’m not interested in something casual,” he says.

 “Of course not. I hope you find someone who deserves you,” Eric says. His mind is racing. If everyone in the Haus has picked up on his crush on Jack, surely Jack will have suspected something as well. Eric needs to make sure Jack knows he won’t make things awkward just because he now knows Jack is gay. He needs to make sure Jack knows Eric doesn’t have any hopes or expectations just because Jack’s been his friend.

 Jack is frowning.

 “Well, that’s why I wanted to talk to you before I made the announcement. I know you’re not out to your family – “

 “Yes, I was thinking this might be a good time to come out to them,” Eric talks over Jack. “I suppose I always thought I’d wait until I was in a relationship. But … there’s a boy in my French class who asked me out last week, so …” This is true. Andre is cute and funny and loves Beyoncé. It’s not his fault Eric can’t see any face but Jack’s.

 Jack’s expression has closed over. “I see,” he says.

 “You know you’re one of my best friends, right Jack?” Eric says. He lets himself put a hand over Jack’s where they are clasped in front of him. “You have my support – whatever you need, whenever, okay?”

 Jack stares down at Eric’s hand. Eric draws it back abruptly. When Jack looks up, he’s smiling. He looks determined – like he’s lining up a goal shot. It’s his game face, Eric thinks slightly hysterically.

“That means a lot to me, Bittle,” he says.

 “Well, good,” Eric bites his lip. He wants nothing more than to retreat to his room and have a good cry. He stands up and clears up their plates. “Are your team … Is Georgia supportive?”

 “They’re being great about it,” Jack says, standing and putting his hands in his pockets. “Georgia says not to worry about anything – that there’ll be some idiots, but that most people will be even more sympathetic to me than before. She says it will probably make them forgive me if I don’t play great hockey straight up.”

 “Well, that’s not something anyone needs to worry about,” Eric is insulted on Jack’s behalf. “As if you know how to play anything less than your best – which is 150% better than most players in the league.”

 Jack grins. “Thanks, Bittle.” For a moment, even though Jack is not the cuddling type (off the ice), Eric actually thinks he’s going to get a Jack Zimmerman hug. He doesn’t think he could bear it, so he moves away. Jack still reaches a hand out and puts it on his shoulder.

 “And … good luck with the French guy,” he says awkwardly.

 “Thanks, Jack,” Eric smiles, and then he can finally escape to his room.

 

 

Eric shuts the door behind him and wishes desperately that he could talk to his mother about this. He wishes it so hard that he actually picks up the phone. But what would he say? He puts the phone down again.

 It’s not like he hasn’t rehearsed the conversation a hundred times, it’s just that he’s afraid. There won’t be any take-backs once he’s said it, and until then he’s free to imagine his Mama’s response going any way he likes.

 But it doesn’t seem right to let that fear rule him at the moment. Jack is being so brave telling everyone – the entire hostile world. All Eric has to do is say the words to his Mama who loves him more than anyone else. He has to believe it’ll work out okay.

 This time when he picks up the phone, Eric presses his mother’s contact without letting himself think too hard about it.

 “Dicky?” his mother’s voice is a sight for sore ears. Eric feels the tears beginning to spill over and he’s so very glad he didn’t try to Skype.

 “Hi Mama,” he knows his voice is wobbly.

 “Is something wrong, sweetheart?”

 “No,” Eric says. “I’m okay. Everything’s okay.”

 There’s a pause.

 “Dicky, I’m worried about you,” Suzanne says.

 Eric takes a deep breath.

 “I’m just … sad, Mama,” he says.

 “Oh, honey,” Eric wishes so much his Mama were here to put her arms around him. “What is it, Dicky? You can tell me anything.”

 “There’s this person,” Eric starts. Suzanne makes encouraging noises, but waits patiently for him to continue. “Who I have feelings for.”

 “Oh,” Eric wishes he could see her face. “And does … this person have feelings for you, too?”

 “No,” Eric sighs. “No, we’re just friends.”

 “I see,” Suzanne sounds thoughtful. “Do you want to tell me about them.”

 “I don’t know if I can, Mama,” Eric’s voice is small.

 “Is it Jack?”

 For a moment Eric thinks his heart has actually stopped.

 “Mama?” he whispers.

 “You know I love you, right, Dicky?” Suzanne says. “And you know you can tell me anything? I don’t want to presume anything, but you do talk about Jack a lot, honey. And he is very good-looking.”

 “Yes,” Eric blurts it out in a rush. “Yes, it’s Jack. Mama, I’m gay.”

 It’s the most terrifying moment of Eric’s life. He does believe in his Mama’s love, but any chance of losing it is too much to contemplate. He doesn’t actually think he would ever recover from that.

 “I love you so much,” Suzanne says. Eric can hear that she’s crying, and he wishes he were there to give her a cuddle. He never wanted to upset her. “It makes no difference to me at all, you hear me? I could not love you more or be more proud of you, darling, and I am so very glad you feel like you can talk to me about this.”

 Eric is sobbing now. He’s a mess. He bets his mother looks much the same. Neither of them ever could cry gracefully. It’s a real burden.

 “I love you too, Mama. I’ve been so scared of what you and Coach might say, and I’m so glad you’re okay.”

 “I’m more than okay, Eric. I think I’ve been waiting for this day a long time. I never wanted to make you feel you had to hide anything from me, sweetheart. And your father will come round, I promise you. You leave him to me, and I’ll have him in shape before you come home next time.”

 “Oh, Mama,” Eric sobs again.

 “Now about this Mr Jack Zimmermann,” Suzanne starts fiercely.

 “It’s not his fault, Mama,” Eric feels tired all of a sudden, and not in the mood for defending Jack from his mother’s ire. “But did you see the news about Kent Parson?”

 “Yes, sweetie, we saw it.”

 “You won’t tell anyone, right? Not even Coach?”

 “If you tell me not to, I won’t.”

 “Well, Jack and Kent used to … um, date I guess,” Suzanne gasps a little. “And Jack is going to come out tomorrow.”

 “Well, sweetie, correct me if I’m wrong, but doesn’t that greatly increase the chance that he might feel the same about you?”

 “It’s not like that,” Eric says sadly. “We had a chat, and I’m pretty sure he was making sure I wasn’t going to come on to him. Everybody must see how I feel about him. Oh, God, you even guessed and you only hear me talk about him on the phone.”

 “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Dicky,” Suzanne says. “Even if he doesn’t return your affection, people like to be liked. It’s flattering – especially when the person who likes you is such a catch.”

 “That can’t be me you’re talking about,” Eric groans. “Jack’s last boyfriend is a two-time Stanley cup winner and the leading goal scorer in the competition. What would he ever see in me?”

 “Well, I don’t know anything about Mr Kent Parsons, but I do know that Mr Eric Bittle is the most kind-hearted, loving person in the whole of North America.”

 “Oh you know that, do you, Mama?” Eric teases gently.

 “ _And_ he bakes a pie that’s won him more Georgia State Fair prizes than any other baker under 30 in the history of the competition.”

 “I’m practically a celebrity in my own right. Is that right, Mama?”

 “You’re a prize, Eric Richard Bittle. And it’s going to take someone pretty special to deserve you.”

 They chat a little longer. Eric feels lighter than he has in a long time. He never wants to keep secrets from his Mama again.

 He cleans himself up and heads downstairs with renewed energy. He’s pretty sure he can face anything now.

 

 

Eric was wrong about what he had the strength to face. He was so very wrong. For some reason, _Alicia Zimmermann_ and Shitty are in the kitchen. And it transpires that they are waiting for him.

 “What did you say to my son?” Alicia asks suspiciously.

 “N-nothing,” Eric is startled.

 “Bro, he came to talk to you earlier,” Shitty prompts. “You must have said something.”

 “I said he had my support,” Eric says faintly. “Of course. He’s one of my best friends.”

 Alicia and Shitty exchange glances.

 “You said he was your friend?” Shitty clarifies.

 “Of course he’s my friend,” Eric is annoyed now.

 “ _Just_ your friend?” Alicia asks. She pronounces the “just” in the French way – for extra emphasis, Eric assumes.

 “Of course,” Eric squeaks. “Oh, God. You must know I would never expect anything more from him.” He appeals to both of them.

 Shitty shakes his head. “Hopeless,” he says. “No game whatsoever, either of you.”

 “Does _everybody_ know how I feel about Jack?” Eric asks. How does Jack’s mother know? He only met her today.

 “How is it that you feel about my son?” Alicia asks.

 “Oh. I. Um. Well. I …” Eric trails off, hoping desperately for some sort of interruption.

 “ _Maman_!” Jack comes into the kitchen. That is not the interruption Eric was hoping for. He slumps into a kitchen seat and hides his face. Jack says something to his mother in French.

 “Well, I don’t know what you expect me to do, Jack,” Alicia tosses her hair. “For two days you have been calm and resolute about this whole situation, and then you go off to tell Eric you love him and come back a mess.” Eric feels the floor disappear beneath him. That is happening a lot lately. “What am I supposed to make of that?” Alicia appeals to Jack, but she is watching Eric closely. “Am I supposed to stand by while this boy breaks your heart?”

 “Jack?” Eric stands up again. It isn’t possible. It can’t be possible. People don’t have all their dreams come true in real life. Eric doesn’t, at any rate.

 “I’m sorry, Bittle,” Jack says, flushed red with embarrassment, and looking more beautiful than Eric has ever seen him. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I know you said there’s someone else … and even if there weren’t, I know you only see me as a – hockey robot. I’m not very interesting, and I don’t know anything about your music or about baking, except what you’ve taught me, and I don’t …”

 Whatever else Jack was going to say is lost in an “Hmmph” when Eric throws himself at Jack’s chest.

 “You like me?” Eric asks, pulling back far enough to see Jack’s face and holding back his tears but not his smile. Eric can feel that smile stretching his face in two.

 “Eric –“ Jack never has been much good with words, but Eric soon finds that doesn’t mean he lacks any talent at using his mouth.

 “Right,” Shitty is openly crying. “This is fucking touching, bros. And about fucking time, too. That mutual pining thing was getting old. All the same, I’d suggest relocating to someone’s bedroom rather than actually fucking in the kitchen in front of Jack’s Mom.”

 “Shitty!” Eric is scandalised.

 “My bed is bigger,” Jack says to Eric, utterly unashamed.

 “Oh, my Lord,” Eric says weakly. He sees Alicia giving him a subtle thumbs-up and a grin. “Oh, my goodness gracious.”

 “Do you think Bitty talks like that during sex?” Shitty asks Jack.

 “Oh, Lord.” Bitty pulls Jack out of the room and up the stairs. It’s quite the feeling, Jack letting himself be pulled along.

 “How long have you had feelings for me?” Eric asks Jack severely once they reach the privacy of Jack’s room. Jack’s bed _is_ larger. Besides, there are some things Senor Bun should never see, and Eric is hoping _he_ is going to be seeing them very soon.

 “I think since you scored that goal against Yale,” Jack says.

 Eric gapes. “You liked me the whole time you were making me get up for checking practice at 4am?”

 “Well, I wanted to spend time with you,” Jack says. “Plus, hockey is very important.”

 Eric stifles a giggle.

 “I came out to my Mama,” he says suddenly. Jack ducks his head to look at Eric, and puts an arm around him.

 “And?”

 “She loves me,” Eric tears up a little. “She’s going to tell Coach.”

 “She better do it soon,” Jack says. “Because I want you by my side tomorrow. I can’t imagine facing the press without you there.”

 “Oh, Jack,” Eric hides his face in Jack’s shoulder, then draws on his courage. “You know I’ve got your back.”

 

 

Eric sees Kent Parson in his twitter feed later that night. The tweet says “JZ4EB4EVA. I hear your mum had to ask him out for you, bro. Let’s hope your hockey game is smoother.”

 Eric favourites the tweet and saves a screenshot to chirp Jack with later. He wonders what kind of pie Kent Parson likes.


End file.
